CHAPTER NUMBER “SMELLS OF SWITZERLAND” HANS J. RINDISBACHER “Non Olet.” Vespasian “If our gold is dung, our dung, on the other hand, is gold.” Victor Hugo, Les Misérables “We are in Güllen. We smell it, we smell it, we smell it in the air, the Güllen air.” [Wir sind in Güllen. Wir riechen’s, wir riechen’s, wir riechen’s an der Luft, an der Güllener Luft]. Friedrich Dürrenmatt, The Visit Switzerland, in the minds of foreigners, triggers a variety of stereotypes that tend to fall into a fairly narrow range of topics: how beautiful the country is, how neat and clean – often followed by some comment about the Swiss banks, the universally known export products of chocolate, cheese, and watches and, when talking to men, a remark or a question about the army or at least its famous knife.1 When visiting the country, especially as a tourist, one can find these things fully in evidence and, wherever applicable, commercialized and ready for sale. Switzerland is a country quite in tune with the stereotypes that circulate about it. For those who know the country better, it presents itself in many more facets and appears, despite its small size and generally low international news profile, as a rather 1 intriguing place. In spite of its air of general quiet and reputation for stability, it has over the past twenty years or so, in tandem with broader European developments, changed significantly. Most of these changes can be understood as the country’s way of adjusting to the new Europe of the post-Cold War age. Not all the challenges on that path – some of them home-made, others seemingly pushed upon a “land of innocents” from abroad – were tackled successfully. But overall Switzerland has begun to see itself less as a Sonderfall, a “special case”; it is integrating into the EU slowly and has developed a self- image of greater suppleness and self-confidence. The question for this chapter is how to present this rapidly changing, culturally diverse, economically successful, politically conservative, militarily neutral, emotionally restrained, and intellectually pragmatic nation state to outsiders? – Many such attempts have been made, of course, from many different angles of inquiry, often from a tourist perspective broadly construed, generally emphasizing the country’s remarkable natural beauty, or from various economic vantage points: the small country, 92nd in the world in terms of population, is ranked 21st for its gross national income and 6th in GNI per capita on a global scale of over 200 countries.2 I suggest a different approach, namely a description of the country in the medium of olfactory perception: Switzerland as a smellscape. The idea is less outlandish than it may at first appear. Olfactory perception is a sensory mode that reveals a lot about its objects, both concrete and figurative, as the thrust of its inquiry tends to be indirect, tied down in materials and substances, spaces and places. Understood as an angle of approach, olfactory perception is prone to extremes, luxurious scents and horrible stenches, real and metaphoric at the same time. The city of Vienna for one has organized a series of workshops and conferences on the topic,3 and Switzerland itself recently ventured into olfactory self-representation.4 In literature, too there exists a considerable body of works with olfactory content, although one cannot find them neatly categorized that way. J. K. Huysmans’s hero, des Esseintes, for one, creates whole landscapes out of scents and, modeled on him, so does Patrick Süskind’s mass murderer hero, Grenouille.5 Closer to our own theme, Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby builds a roaring-twenties link between money, shady deals, and the wish that their aroma not be too revealing. It is an aroma that also gently fragrances parts of Switzerland as we will see.6 Thus while 2 there clearly are examples of olfaction in cultural and literary media, overall olfaction is still a fairly novel and under-theorized field of cultural inquiry. I therefore want to provide first a brief historical sketch of a more traditional kind of important political, social, and cultural events and shifts in Switzerland over the past two decades. This will reveal an emerging fresher and lighter mood, highlighted against a few darker base notes of longer duration and murkier provenance. The subsequent olfactory-focused section includes both empirical, at least anecdotal, data as well as metaphorical and symbolic aspects. As the study of smells entails the study of many other things and has a tendency toward metonymic dispersion and anecdotal representation, the cultural-historical outline is designed to anchor the olfactory analyses firmly in the fabric of everyday life while highlighting the difficult moments in Switzerland’s transition to contemporaneity. The second part of the chapter will then summarily discuss basic parameters and peculiarities of olfactory perception that pertain to our undertaking; and the last part will fill out the framework thus sketched with concrete examples and symbolic generalizations to be drawn from them and introduce the fragrances that pervade Switzerland. This much can be said: at the material level Switzerland, like most western industrial and post-industrial countries, has become fairly odorless in its public spaces by following the broad thrust of western enlightenment which, for olfactory perception and related fields, such as sanitation and hygiene (both public and private), labor (kinds and places of work), fashion, etc., has led to ever greater vigilance and cleaner ambient air in the broad framework of civilizational progress. This in turn has created the potential for infusion of desirable, pleasant scents in aestheticis rather than for merely masking bad odors that was the raison d’être of perfumery in earlier centuries. At the metaphoric level, however, Switzerland exudes a peculiar odor of money and its corrupting force. Out of the tension between the wish that money not smell and the fact that it does and therefore often has to be laundered in order to remove its air of dirt and excrement arises the defining aroma of the country. The analysis of this nexus is the goal of part three. This still leaves one broad question open: how can an inquiry into aspects of Swiss culture, perceived “through the nose,” as it were, and based on textual evidence, be usefully incorporated into the teaching of Swiss culture? Here are a few pointers – but first, a challenge. Unlike, say, the works of a certain author or topics such as “folk dress” 3 or “the role of women” or “the importance of banking for the national economy,” “olfactory perception” is not a well-established aspect of cultural inquiry that is found neatly packaged in databanks, indexes, or Google searches. There always is a bit of serendipity involved in locating suitable olfaction-related teaching materials. Moreover, smells constitute a transgressive and connective medium that easily skips boundaries and links topics and confirms and enhances the specific factual findings arrived at through other inquiries rather than providing hard evidence sui generis. Smells serve to corroborate, rarely to bear the whole burden of evidence of a political, socio-cultural, or other inquiry. The present article makes its point in the field of political science and the investigation of the Nazi-Gold affair, throwing light also on the “filthy lucre” of one of the nation’s top economic activities, banking, and thus broadly on money and morals. But the sense of smell appears in many cultural shapes. Thus the teaching suggestion I want to make here involves ethnic (racial) stereotyping and xenophobia – an issue of prime importance in past decades of Swiss social and cultural transformations – rather than the world of money. Foreigners, migrants, the “Other” – from Jews in Nazi Germany to Turks in contemporary Berlin to the early Italian guest workers in Switzerland – have infallibly (also) been characterized through their smells. In Franco Supino’s Musica Leggera, the olfactory dimension is subtle and works with established functions: to enhance social/class characteristics, to mark personal/erotic space, and to create the general sensory context for explicit discursive arguments.7 The Secondo narrator of the novel focuses on migration, biculturalism, and hybrid identity and uses music as the central associative and mnemonic device. He teaches Italian through songs, the canzoni by the famous cantautori of the 1970s, ‘80s, and ‘90s, and has his students complete the lyrics through, Lückentexte, “textual blanks” (155), but warns them that there are more gaps than words, thus alluding to the personal memories that accrue around music – just they do as around smells. The mnemonic-associative setup of Musical Leggera can in fact serve as a pedagogical model for structuring smells although, clearly, the latter play only a subsidiary role here. 4 1. Recent cultural-historical developments In the early 1980s, serious unrest among the Swiss urban youth led to demonstrations and a deep malaise among the younger generation in a system they considered repressive and stagnating. While the police brutality against protesters stank to high heaven, there was also the unmistakable odor of tear gas in the air on many occasions in the larger Swiss cities, notably Zurich, where veritable street battles were fought over the refusal to finance an autonomous youth center while the city’s opera house was generously provided for. The decade also saw the rise of anti-nuclear and peace movements, linked concerns that had been brought into focus by the 1986 Chernobyl accident and the prior decision by NATO to upgrade its nuclear arms in Europe.8 These were in fact Europe-wide issues. In 1989 considerable system rot surfaced in the so-called Fichenaffäre, the scandal that the Swiss Federal Police had secretly spied for years on citizens suspected of left-wing or anti-state leanings.